A Different Kind of Hobbit
by ShatteredRhapsody
Summary: If Bilbo had embraced his Took side, just what kind of a Hobbit would he have grown to be? With the helping hand of a longtime family friend, watch as a different Bilbo Baggins embarks on the grand journey to Erebor… slightAU with OC
1. How it starts

**A/N: Seriously, the pace at which I've been reading the majority of the Hobbit fanfics is ridiculous. So go figure that I wanted to write one too.**

**Summary: If Bilbo had embraced his Took side, just what kind of a Hobbit would he have grown to be? With the helping hand of a longtime family friend, watch as a different Bilbo Baggins embarks on the grand journey to Erebor… slightAU with OC**

Bilbo was just a fauntling when he met the she-dwarf who claimed his mother as sister-kin. He had just come home from the fields and was trying to sneak back into the house when he heard laughter from the kitchen. He hadn't heard much laughter since his father passed away a few months back. He was worried his mother would follow after him if he hadn't volunteered for Bounder training. Yes, he was only in his twenties, but he was allowed minor tips and pointers in learning self-defense.

"…I had no idea it was you who did the proposing! Then again, I'd only met the lad once and he didn't seem the type to make the first move."

The voice was female and a bit husky as if she spoke loudly quite often.

"Oh, you should have seen it, Svala! Before I could even say anything he told me no and walked away! Later, he confessed that he was afraid I was going to demand he go on an adventure with me."

Bilbo was more than surprised. He hadn't heard his mother's laughter since before the Fell Winter.

"If I recall correctly, the first time you met him, you pushed him into a pond."

"And? He did say he wished he could learn how to swim!"

The kitchen erupted in a fit of giggles. Curiosity piqued, Bilbo peered around the corner. His mother sat in a chair, doubled over in laughter with some dough in her hands and hair peppered with flour. The other woman had black hair in a thick braid down her back; she was also splattered with flour as she molded the dough in her hands.

"Muffins!" Bilbo blurted before he could stop himself, "Mama, are you making muffins? What kind?"

"Ah! Bilbo, where have you been? Yes, we're making poppy seed muffins. Go wash up and then you can come help put them in the oven."

"Alright, Mama."

…

For Bilbo, that initial meeting felt like a lifetime ago. Thirty years had passed since meeting the she-dwarf, now known to him as Svala. And it seemed like just yesterday his mother was on her deathbed, her eyes glowing with laughter as Svala swore to raise Bilbo in her stead.

"_Hobbiton will surely be in an uproar,"_ was the last Belladonna Baggins nee Took said before she passed on, a smile on her face.

And Svala had kept her word.

After burying Belladonna, she took over training him for the Bounders. He hadn't known it yet, but Svala's name carried a certain weight amongst both the Hobbit Bounders and the Rangers who protected the Shire's borders. She had insisted that he become proficient in a multitude of different weapons. Truth be told, he favored the short sword and throwing axes. He was rubbish with a bow and downright awful with a war hammer. But his skill was deemed passable by his Guardian and was allowed on patrol.

When he had gotten around to asking why she had him do all this, she replied with a gruff, "Your mother was the greatest adventurer I had ever met. She wouldn't want you to miss out on anything this world has to offer."

Bilbo found himself unable to pass up any kind of adventuring shortly after. He would never admit it aloud, but he enjoyed a good scrap and mock-battle with some of the Rangers. Clearly all Svala's influence, of course.

And true to Belladonna Took's words, both Bilbo and Svala had Hobbiton in an uproar nearly every other month. From chasing the Sackville-Baggins' out of Bag End, to a near stampede of angry cattle, to a month-long prank war that spanned the length of the Shire, Bree, and then some!

But it didn't take long for Bilbo to grow restless. He was out there, searching for that one big adventure, and he wasn't finding it. Frustrated, he barely paid any attention as Svala led him outside to sit on the bench to braid his hair while the weather was still warm. He sat with his back to her, knees drawn up to his chin while absently smoking from his pipe whilst his hair was being gently woven into braids.

"Take heart, Bilbo, our next adventure may be just around the corner."

"And if it isn't?"

"Well, we could always pay the Sackville-Baggins' a visit. We still owe them for trying to steal your father's armchair."

Their borderline mad laughter sent chills down the spines of those who heard them. Except for one person clad in grey robes with a rather pointy hat atop his head and a staff in hand.


	2. A promise to be kept

When Gandalf the Grey first arrived in Hobbiton, he was treated to tall tales of ridiculous gossip. Rumors of the "Mad Baggins" of Bag End blended with tales of "The Great Bilbo" who fended off wolves from the previous winter. It seemed the Bilbo Baggins he remembered had not changed at all. But as he rounded the corner to Bag End, he felt the need to retract his earlier thought; the young lad who boasted of adventures had clearly had the adventures come to him.

The once simple wooden gate and fence appeared to be reinforced with stone. There were also what appeared to be Dwarvish runes carved into the brick pattern that surrounded a damaged green door. And by damage, Gandalf would have bet his favorite pipe that the long, jagged grooves on the sturdy wooden panels were made by that of a warg instead of the average wolf that lingered along the borders of the Shire. This was more than troubling news to the old wizard; the Shire was supposed to be well-protected. It was a well-known fact that Shirefolk were peace-loving creatures, so the Rangers were more than happy to maintain that peace. But for a wild beast larger than a wolf to come quite literally to the _door_ of one? T'was unheard of!

His eyes very nearly passed over the bench that bore two small beings; the bench itself seemed to be on its last legs quite literally.

"Well, well, if it isn't the Wandering Wizard who failed to pay his respects to Belladonna Took."

Gandalf couldn't help but flinch. Not only were the words true but he had hoped the owner of the voice had moved on from these parts.

"Ah, Svala! What a surprise. I was not aware that you still lingered in the Shire." He had heard various rumors that the young she-dwarf never returned to the Blue Mountains in favor of honoring a promise to a Hobbit. He'd never expect that she would be tied to the family of this particular Hobbit. And it was quite clear that she had quite the influence on the lad. Bilbo Baggins unruly riot of curls had been tamed with braids that were clasped to the sides of his head. He was also far more lean that the average Hobbit and he could see the slight ripple of muscle as he rose from the bench to stand beside the she-dwarf.

"Someone had to finish raising the whelp!" Svala patted Bilbo's back affectionately before leaving to unlock the gate for Gandalf to enter their small yard. She met him with a quick embrace that he happily returned. Naturally, Bilbo followed her lead and also embraced the old wizard; he was also bouncing on his feet he was so excited.

"Master Gandalf! It's a pleasure to see you again. I don't remember much when I was a fauntling, but I do remember your brilliant fireworks!"

"I suppose fireworks are better worth remembering than not being remembered at all," Gandalf muttered before breaking into a kind smile, "I am looking for someone to share an adventure with."

Bilbo's eyes were wider than saucers as his gaze darted from Gandlaf to Svala, and then back to Gandalf. His jaw had dropped in utter awe at being asked such a delightful question that words began pouring out of his mouth in quick succession. "I...I would love to join you on an adventure! What manner of adventure is it? Damsels in distress? Will there be Kings involved? Elves? Goblins? _Dragons?!_"

Gandalf desperately tried to keep his facial expressions neutral as he replied, "I...do expect there will be that and more." He could feel the scorching gaze burning into the side of his face.

"Wonderful! Absolutely brilliant! Svala, isn't this just wonderful? Why, just mere moments ago we were discussing the very thing!" Bilbo was beyond ecstatic but even he noticed his beloved friend's silence. As well as the set of her shoulders, which were hard and unmoving and only occurred when she was quite furious. "Um, Svala? Is everything alright?"

The look on her face was thunderous and her gaze was harder than diamonds as she attempted to glare the wizard into submission. Her tone came out hard and clipped, the way it usually did before the shouting started.

"Everything is just _fine_. Now go inside and pack for two."

"Two? But I thought..." his worried gaze flicked between that of Gandalf and Svala.

"Inside. _Now_." She barked and the hobbit wisely obeyed.

Gandalf tried not to fidget; he knew that she knew just what he was asking of her precious Bilbo. She knew of the dangers that were more than likely ready to spring at them once they entered the Wild. When Bilbo had been firing his questions at him, he had noticed the tightening around her eyes, and the clenching of her fists while she studied his own reaction. Gandalf began to wonder if the other species in Middle Earth realized just why Dwarf women were a rare sight. He also began to think that those who had never witnessed a she-dwarf were quite lucky in that aspect, and hoped no one else would have to brave an enraged she-dwarf like the one standing before him.

The second the door closed behind Bilbo, Svala let the dam burst and lapsed into Khuzdul.

_**'You dare? You dare ask my Bilbo-Belladonna Took's only child-to partake in a quest to re-claim Erebor?! Have you taken a blow to the head? Has a hammer caught you unawares recently?'**_

"My dear, he is the best choice for such a quest. You know as well as I do that Smaug intimately knows the scent of Dwarf, but not the scent of Hobbit. And from what I can see, Bilbo is more ready for this quest than I ever would have imagined. He will not be left unprotected to fend for himself-"

_**'Which is why I will be joining the quest alongside him. By Mahal, he has only lived thus far under my care! Is it not enough that I have lost my home, my sister-kin, and possibly the last of my family should I let him go on his own?'**_

Svala's initial anger drained out of her and she resumed her empty spot on the bench. Sighing, she removed her pipe from her coat and tried not to grumble when Gandalf joined her to light her pipe. "I made a promise, Master Gandalf. I promised on Belladonna's deathbed that I look after her son." She blew out a smoke ring and sent a half-hearted glare in the wizard's direction. "And I shall continue to look after her son. Which is why I _will_ be joining this quest alongside him."

"I understand. Although I did tell the company that there was just one member left to recruit..."

Svala's exhalation of smoke from her nose would have done any dragon proud and was all the encouragement Gandalf need to correct his statement.

"But I'm sure they'll be pleased to have another capable warrior on hand."


	3. Memories not forgotten

Svala had insisted that she go down to her forge near the market to sharpen their weapons for the upcoming journey. She had taken her pony, Poppy, along with a cart loaded with their swords, axes, and the like to the market. She briefly mentioned picking up another barrel of the Gaffer's home brew before she'd be back. Bilbo's only protest to all of this was the lack of help he'd be getting in regards to moving the furniture around to accommodate such a large party of dwarrows. Sure, he had muscles but he didn't have Svala's superior strength at moving furniture like it was nothing. Actually, she tended to toss the furniture about in such a way that it would land where it needed to with little damage; this was a skill Bilbo envied greatly.

What's worse was that she left all the cooking and preparation to him! He did try to argue that Svala's dwarvish style of recipes would better suit the plans for supper, but she merely clapped him on the back hard enough to send him sprawling and said she had faith in him. Staring at his now empty larder, he was only hoping she was right. _At least nothing will spoil while I'm gone,_ he thought to himself as he chopped up vegetables for the beef stew that was well on its way to being completed. He had fresh biscuits cooling by the window and a seasoned chicken ready for roasting. When he was satisfied with his work, he set out to move all the available chairs into the dining room. He only hoped his table would be large enough to fit them all!

He heard a familiar clicking sound from down the hall and knew it to be Svala unlocking the door. Much like the rest of the smial, there were dwarven locks on anything with a lock; especially, on windows. It had been Bilbo who insisted that Svala use her skills as a Smithee-for-your-every-need to protect their home shortly after Lobelia Sackville-Baggins was caught climbing out of a window with his late mother's ornately carved hairbrush. Bilbo briefly wondered what their expected guests would think when they saw the familiar markings around the door and the light touch of dwarvish architecture.

"Bilbo? I'm going to draw a bath for myself. The weapons are in the box near your father's armchair. I moved the barrel closer to the table for you as well."

"Thank you, Svala!"

...

No sooner had he raised the barrel onto a small bench in the dining area had the doorbell rang. His first guest already! Practically skipping to the door, Bilbo grabbed the handle and swung the door wide. Standing before him was a bear of a dwarf with inkings on his bald head and a majestic black beard. _Clearly a warrior this one_, Bilbo thought as the dwarf introduced himself.

"Dwalin, at yer service."

"Bilbo Baggins, at yours! Do come in, I have a mat here where you can wipe the mud from your boots. Any weapons can go into this box here," he gestured to the empty one he managed to find just in time to place near the door, "and supper is just straight ahead to your right."

Dwalin took a moment to study the halfling that stood several inches shorter than himself before proceeding to wipe his boots clean. He wasn't what he expected after asking other hobbits directions to reach this place. "Thank ye laddie."

"You are most welcome, Master Dwalin!" Bilbo chirped.

Why, he was so excited! To finally meet another of his dear Svala's kin after so many years was a cause for enthusiasm. And his enthusiasm only grew as more began to show up at his door. He had graciously accepted Balin's help with finding more chairs and moving them into the dining area. And was nearly overwhelmed by the rate at which Fili and Kili were consuming their mugs of ale. The brothers of Ri were quickly becoming a large source of entertainment what with Dori scolding Nori whilst trying to tend to Ori. Bilbo was downright astonished at the glorious beards of both Oin and Gloin; he was only too happy to compliment them on it. He was just getting to know Bifur, Bofur and Bombur when dual shrieks of outrage from down the hall.

"Dwalin Fundinson!"

"By Mahal!"

Bilbo knew that piercing cry of a deranged harpy anywhere. He completely forgotten to mention to his guests that there was another person residing in his home. Reassuring the others that he would personally see to the problem they all just heard, he quickly ran to the direction of the raised voices and fought the urge to bang his head upon the nearest available surface.

It seemed that Dwalin had gone searching for the bathroom and mistakenly opened the door to Svala's room. Svala, who had been in the middle of dressing was understandably outraged. Nevermind the fact that Dwalin saw her looking indecent, the fact that it was _Dwalin_ was what set her off.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know! Blasted woman, stop hitting me!"

Rolling his eyes, Bilbo returned to the dining area to placate his new acquaintances.

"All is well. It must have slipped my mind, but there is another dwarf who lives here with me. She had been raising me in my mother's place for quite some time now. Dwalin appeared to have...ahem...accidentally walked in on her in a state of undress."

While the others reactions ranged from embarrassment to laughter, it was Balin who's eyebrows rose high enough to meet his hairline. "If your guardian knows Dwalin, then I must be familiar with her as well."

Speak and ye shall receive. As soon as Balin finished speaking, there was a pounding of feet on the floor as Dwalin raced past the table with his hands protecting his head. Not a moment later, a fully clothed Svala came charging after him wielding a hairbrush with a string of curses in Khuzdul pouring from her lips. Fili and Kili were staring in awe as they never heard such violent language from anyone before; Dori was desperately holding his hands over Ori's ears in attempt to block the sounds from defiling his innocent younger brother's ears.

"If I di'n't know any better," Oin stated as he leaned around his spot at the table to get a better view, "I'd say tha lass has the most uncanny resemblance to that o' tha Swifthammers." Gloin was nodding his head in agreement. It had been years since anyone had heard of the Swifthammers, but they had not forgotten that stern tone of voice, nor the look of the eyes that could cause a grown man to wet himself.

"You're actually right on the mark, Master Oin." Gandalf winced as what sounded like something colliding with the fireplace gate echoed around them. "Svala is the last of her clan since her brother and father passed away during the battle of Azanulbizar."

"Balin, by Mahal, be a brother and git this deranged warg away from me!"

_**'...Agradoth boru ngazung!'**_

At this, even Fili had his hands over Kili's ears in complete shock. That was an old high dwarven curse! He only knew of it because his uncle let it slip once and his mother nearly brained him with a frying pan for even saying it! Balin, however, had thrown his head back and laughed along with the other dwarrows closer to his age-Oin and Gloin were nearly falling out their chairs.

"Aye, I shall go help my brother."

...

One sincere and one reluctant apology later, Svala and Dwalin sat at opposite ends of the dinner table trying to glare each other into submission. According to Balin, the two had a history of terrible pranks gone wrong, but neither dwarrow wished to speak much of it. Much, being the keyword in this instance. While the other dwarrows were content to eat, drink and chat, they were chatting just quietly enough to catch the growled insults being hurled up and down the table.

"Fer the last time, lass, I was only forty-five!"

"'Tis a shame you no longer have hair. I would have loved to cleave it off your head myself."

"This ain't 'bout the braid is it? Your brother _gave_ me his hammer b'fore the battle!"

"I hope your beard falls off as well."

Nori and Bofur couldn't help but guffaw into their mugs as they struggled to drink their ale. It was quite a sight to see the Head of the Guard of Ered Luin being verbally beaten down by a she-dwarf with a volatile temper that could rival that of the Lady Dis.

"At least I have a beard," muttered Dwalin just before Svala's fork made an unfortunate bee line towards his face.

Luckily, Bifur was paying attention and caught the offensive utensil just in time. The table was awkwardly quiet until Ori spoke up with a shy, "What shall I do with my plate?"

"Give it here, Ori!" Fili yelled from down the hall and happily chucked the plate over to his brother.

Kili was about to toss it over to Bilbo when the hobbit quickly stammered, "Oh, I couldn't! I'm terrible at this game and would hate for dishes to break." He heard a rhythmic pounding on the table and what tender hobbit sensibilities he still retained blurted from his mouth with a "Please don't do that. You'll blunt them!"

"Oh, you hear that lads?" Bofur's eyes took on a most conspiratorial gleam, "He says we'll blunt the knives!"

And thus the merry making began with a song that the dwarrows produced out of thin air:

_"Blunt the knives and bend the forks! _  
_Smash the bottles and burn the corks!_  
_Chip the glasses and crack the plates!_  
_That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"_

At this point, Bilbo had no choice but to join in what with Svala no longer trying to murder Dwalin with her eyes as she elbowed a bowl in his direction. He did his best and managed to headbutt the bowl along to Dori.

_"Cut the cloth and trail the fat! _  
_Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!_  
_Pour the milk on the pantry floor!_  
_Splash the wine on every door!_

_Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl; _  
_Pound them up with a thumping pole;_  
_And when you've finished, if they are whole,_  
_Send them down the hall to roll!"_

Bilbo couldn't keep up with the words at all, but the tune was merry enough. He even looped arms with Kili and Ori and danced round in circles laughing at it all.

_"That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"_


	4. No slumbering in this party

Bilbo had fallen to the floor in a heap of dwarrows from laughing so hard that he almost didn't hear the knock at the door. Everyone fell silent as Gandalf rose from his seat to answer the door.

"He's here."

As it was Bilbo's home, it was Bilbo's responsibility to be the one to personally answer the door. He would finally be meeting the Thorin Oakenshield from Svala's bed time stories. This day was only getting better!

"Bilbo, this is Thorin Oakenshield, the leader of the company." Gandalf was kind enough to point out despite the sour look on the leader's face as he sized up the hobbit.

"And Thorin, this is Bilbo Baggins. Our burglar."

"At your service, Master Oakenshield!" Bilbo happily chirped in his excitement. Why, Thorin was much more majestic than Bilbo could have imagined! The long dark hair, the distinguished nose, and those dark, brooding eyes. He tried not to blush after realizing he had stared a moment longer than he should have.

"So this is the hobbit," Thorin all but spat out. He still didn't agree with Gandalf's choice for the company's fourteenth member. Such gentlefolk had no place in a dangerous quest such as theirs. "Tell me, Master Baggins, sword or axe?"

"I know my way around a sword, Master Oakenshield, but I can manage with an axe if I have to." Bilbo was completely oblivious to the rising tension emanating from his royal gruffness. He was just being honest and had not expected the sudden negative reply to his honesty.

"Surely you jest. You look more like a farmer than a burglar."

"Thank you!"

Amidst the large group of dwarrows, Svala resisted the urge to bang her head into a wall. Oh, the cultural clashes. Being called a farmer in the Shire was something to be proud of, but in the Dwarven culture, being a farmer was akin to that of being useless. She'd have to resume Bilbo's lessons on Dwarven culture when they were on the road tomorrow morning.

"I thought so," came Thorin's reply as he situated himself at the table. Bombur had saved a plate of food and a tankard of ale for him.

While the other dwarrows gathered to discuss a meeting in Ered Luin, Svala took the time to pull Bilbo into the sitting area to talk to him.

"Oh, Svala, I don't think he likes me much." Bilbo had such a forlorn look upon his face that Svala couldn't help but pull him into a warm embrace.

"There, there, Sweetling. He's never met a hobbit like you before; dwarrows from the Blue Mountain rarely venture so close to the Shire. So what they know of the Shirefolk comes from what they hear. Give him a chance to get to know you. It took time for me to get to know your mother and I had little knowledge of hobbits when I met her. I believe I was unbelievably rude to her in the beginning."

"Svala...you met mother after the caravan was ambushed by orcs and almost beheaded her because she was the same height as the orcs."

"Well then, it's a good thing she shouted at me that she was no orc!"

They shared a light chuckle before Svala released him from her embrace to kiss his temple in reassurance. "All will be well, Bilbo, you'll see."

...

Svala was still giggling into her tankard as she sat in one of the smaller sitting areas with Bofur, Bifur, Oin and Gloin. Oh, she was never going to let Bilbo live it down that he fainted because Bofur was teasing him about the dragon. As far as she saw it, Thorin must think that Bilbo fainted out of fear, but Svala knew better. She had once witnessed Bilbo fainting after she treated him to a true Dwarvish style breakfast!

"So Miss Svala, is it true that you're indeed the last of the Swifthammers?" Bofur was readying his pipe for usage and happily accepted a light from Gloin.

"Oh, aye. My uncle raised me after news of my brother's and Da's death reached me. We came to Bree and a decade later I got caught up in a scuffle with Bilbo's Ma. I promised her to raise him in her stead after she passed on some thirty years back."

_'You've done a fine job, lassie. He's not as weak as Thorin thinks he is,'_ Bifur signed to her in Iglishmek.

"Och, aye," Gloin nodded in agreement. "Your lad dinna get those kind o' muscle from bein' a farmer. You've trained 'im in our ways, 'aven't ya?"

Svala set down her tankard with a grin. "I told you didn't I? I promised his Ma to look after him, but I didn't do all the work. Have you heard of the Bounders?"

Oin, who was more educated in the ways of the world, nodded while the others shook their heads.

"They patrol the Shire's borders with the Dúnedain Rangers. I've encountered a few of them in the past. They're not quite hardened warriors, but they know enough to defend themselves."

"Correct. When Bilbo isn't home being a 'respectable hobbit,' he's out training new Bounders or getting into a scrap with Rangers with inflated egos."

Bofur chuckled. "Thorin will see his worth soon enough. Now I have to wonder, but how do you know Dwalin, Miss Svala?"

"Ah," she coughed and noticed that Oin and Gloin's shoulders were shaking in silent laughter. "He was good friends with my brother, Sveorn. They both used to tease me terribly when I was in my thirties. I got into a tussle with Dwalin and I uh," she mumbled quietly hoping she wouldn't have to repeat herself.

Oin, with an obnoxious gleam in his eyes, directed his ear horn in her direction. "Wha's that lassie? Something 'bout a braid?"

"Oh, alright!" Svala growled, "I ripped out one of his mustache braids. But he started it!"

Their loud guffaws drew attention from the brothers Ri, who were chatting amongst themselves not too far away. Nori was most interested in Svala's squabbles with the Head Guard of Ered Luin; made for good blackmail material. He caught the tail end of another conversation involving honey and feathers that had him in stitches he was laughing that hard. Oh, Nori was going to make it his top priority to get more stories out of the lass. Especially since she was making his older brother laughing to near the point of tears. His youngest brother, however, waited for the chuckles to quiet before making his voice known.

"Miss Svala, not much is known about the Swifthammers. I'm to be a scribe for this journey and I was wondering if you could help me fill in a small passage about your clan?"

"It would be my pleasure, Master Ori. Now, back in Erebor, my mother and father were quite skilled at crafting all kinds of magnificent trinkets..."

...

Thorin, Dwalin, and Balin sat together at the table, listening to their fellow dwarrows chatter amongst themselves. Bilbo and Gandalf were still talking about the quest when they heard a roar of laughter that had Dwalin twitching with tension. Thorin found himself greatly amused since he vaguely remembered a time when his dear friend was troubled endlessly by a dwarven lass who held an intense grudge against him. He had to admit that he was surprised to find that very same lass in the Shire, in the very house of the burglar that they were to recruit. A part of him was pleased to see one his kin flourishing so well in such a peaceful area while another part was bristling with jealousy at how comfortable her life seemed. Last he had heard, she had not returned to Ered Luin once her uncle had passed on, leaving her the last of her family's legacy. While he could not deny her right to make a home for herself, he was still ticked that she had not returned to her kin.

"There, there, brother. I'm sure she still hasn't gotten around to telling them about the time you got your head stuck in a great block of-"

"CHEESE?!" Raucous laughter trailed down the hall and Dwalin could only drop his head onto the table in misery. His reputation was going down the drain every second that passed by.

Even Thorin couldn't help but chuckle, "Dwalin, what did you do to cause her ire against you?"

Both sons of Fundin grew oddly quiet and refused to look Thorin in the eye. Of course, this only made him press on for more.

"Dwalin, she wouldn't happen to be the lass you mistook for another when you tried to court-"

"It was a long time ago, Thorin. She had not yet reached her maturity and...well, you see...it was just a mistake!"

"Aye," Balin patted his brother on the back, "'Twas a long time ago, laddie."

...

After singing the song of The Lonely Mountain, Thorin was moderately surprised that Bilbo had signed the contract and was in the middle of finding extra bedding for his guests. He had mentioned something about having several spare guestrooms, but had also mentioned that they would have to be shared amongst the dwarrows. Gandalf, of course, had his own room as it had a Man-sized bed available. Svala had opened her own room to Oin, Gloin, and Bifur; there must be some kind of history there.

Or ale.

If the laughter coming from behind the closed door was any indication.

Dori, Nori, Ori, Bofur and Bombur settled themselves in front of the fireplace where Biblo had laid down some blankets and pillows for them to rest on. Bofur was whittling away at a block of wood in what looked to be a miniature Dwalin with his head stuck in a block of cheese while Bombur was well into Dreamland. Dori was fussing over Ori, who was using Bombur's belly as a backrest while he scribbled into his journal. Nori was oddly silent, which Dori found immediately suspicious and kept a close eye on him. He only hoped his younger brother would resist the urge to steal something from their kind host.

Dwalin and Balin graciously accepted the only extra spare room available while Fili, Kili, and Thorin were offered to bunk with Bilbo in his room. Thorin, who still didn't trust their would-be burglar, reluctantly accepted since he didn't want to let his outrageous nephews out of his sight. But as the night wore on, and the hobbit's smial grew quiet as the other guests found sleep, Thorin found himself reluctant to lift his gaze off of the hobbit who slept on a couch just a few feet from the bed. He was nothing like what he was expecting the hobbit to be; okay, he was only _mostly_ what he expected. Before the door to the hobbit's home opened, he had expecting to see a delicate creature with soft hands and a rounded middle, much like the other hobbits he had seen when he arrived in Hobbiton. He had not expected calloused hands, lean muscle, and innocent, trusting blue eyes. When the hobbit had been setting up the bed for him and his nephews, he kept babbling about Svala's stories of his kin. How she had taught him the history of the dwarves so far, and why Thorin was an idol to the halfling in terms of courage and fearlessness. Thorin wanted to believe that the hobbit was just trying to flatter him to get into his good graces, but he could almost feel the admiration behind the halfling's words.

Maybe he wouldn't have to worry so much after all.

...

Both Bilbo and Thorin were speechless. They had woken during the wee hours of the morning to what sounded like an Oliphant crashing into the walls, but in reality found that there were two drunken dwarrows having a slap fight while chasing one another down the hall. It seemed the brothers Oin and Gloin had gotten into some kind of argument about who's beard was more majestic and decided to settle it like men.

Bilbo had just rolled his eyes and went back to his couch to sleep, grumbling about why "dwarves should not drink honey ale". Thorin decided to follow his lead and got back into bed, shoving his nephews aside to resume his former comfortable spot. He ended up with two pillows over his ears to block out the sound of what seemed like his nephews getting up to join a drunken Svala and Bifur in a game of catch.

And with such long and wide halls, who could blame them? It was just like the dish washing game, only they were attempting to throw it farther and farther. Bifur was standing outside the front door when he hurled the plate like a discus back into the house where Fili and Kili managed to run into each other trying to catch it. Svala kept backing up in an effort to reach for the plate, yelling down the hall, "Bifur I got it! I-" She backed straight into a wall and ducked as the plate flew straight at her with such velocity that at the moment she chose to duck, it shattered itself on the wall. Blinking owlishly in her drunken state, she stared at the broken pieces before darting into the kitchen to grab a new plate, then dashed back to her spot against the wall. She proceeded to wave the new plate in Fili and Kili's faces with an exclamation of "I got it!" followed by a "No, that broken plate had always been there."

The second time Thorin awoke was to get some water for his parched throat. He made it as far as the threshold of the kitchen before he tripped over something and landed face first into someone's beard. Getting up with a growl, he resisted the urge to kick the dwarf with the offending beard-it looked like Gloin-and walked around the odd dwarf pile that was sleeping in the middle of the kitchen floor. If he squinted hard enough, he could see what looked like a hand in a knitted glove sticking out from beneath a blond head. The remaineder of the blond head's body was being used as a pillow for Dori. Thorin shook his head and was about to head back to bed when he heard whispers and giggles. Curiosity got the better of him, so he peeked into the open door of Svala's room and fought the urge to chuckle. Majestic Kings do not chuckle. Especially at the sight of his other nephew, Oin, and Svala engaged in what appeared to be a pillow duel.

He absently wondered how his company would be able to function with so little sleep once they hit the road. And as he quietly closed the door to head back to his room, a gleeful Nori rocketed past him with a familiar hat in hand. An outraged Bofur followed soon after and Thorin sighed heavily. It seemed only Gandalf would be getting the most sleep tonight.

"Master Dwalin, your room is the one across from mine. Now kindly remove yourself from my bed!"

Or not.

**A/N: I feel almost depressed by the lack of reviews I get here on . Now I don't mind that plenty of you have favorite/followed the story. But I would like some feedback at least. I'll continue to cross-post this story from AO3. I tend to update there first. **


	5. Good morning sunshine

Bilbo rose from his spot on the couch and stretched languidly before looking around his room. Thorin was still asleep in his bed, but Fili and Kili were nowhere to be found. Based off of what he heard last night, he expected that he'd be finding them somewhere in his smial. By the silence of his home, he predicted that he was the first person awake and therefore, it was his responsibility to serve his guests First Breakfast. Opening his bedroom door quietly, he took one step and promptly fell face first onto the floor.

What in the...?

Cautiously getting back to his feet, he could only stare in confusion from what looked like a trail of dwarrows leading from his room to the kitchen. He had tripped over Kili and had nearly stepped on Fili's face. The kitchen wasn't in much better condition, but at least the dwarrows there slept a good distance from the stove. Forever grateful for having an emergency pantry, Bilbo gathered bacon, eggs, bread, butter and cheese. He hoped it would be enough to tide everyone over; he saw how they all ate last night. Why, these dwarrows could give hobbits a run for their money for how much they enjoyed food!

He had only finished the scrambled eggs when a sleepy-eyed Bombur waddled into the kitchen. Lured in by the scent of food, Bombur decided to give the hobbit a hand at cooking; the faster they cooked, the fast he would be able to eat! And the hobbit wasn't bad company, he certainly had no problem maneuvering around his own kitchen what with dwarrows lying in odd places on his floor.

"Good morning, Master Baggins! Mighty kind of you to offer breakfast before we head out."

"You're welcome, Master Bombur! I don't know about you dwarrows, but we hobbits prefer a good breakfast before starting the day! If you don't mind, there's some dried smoked meat in that cabinet," he gestured to some of the cabinets behind them, "Ah, not that one. To the right, by Dori's foot...there! We'll take some of that for the road."

"Good idea, Master Baggins. I'll add it to the food supplies that we already have."

"I expect I'll have to adjust my diet once we leave. We hobbits eat seven meals a day; I shall have to get used to far less."

Bombur's jaw dropped at the number and before he could say anything, Balin had joined them by the stove to plate the bacon they had just finished.

"Seven times a day? By my beard, laddie! Where does it all go?"

Bilbo flushed with embarrassment, "Oh, they're not large feasts by any means. Not as large as the supper we had last night, no. They're more like snacks really. There's First Breakfast, Second Breakfast, Elevensies, Luncheon, Afternoon Tea..." He paid no mind to his guests' eyes growing wider with each word, "Dinner, and then Supper. Although sometimes it's called Second Dinner instead of Supper. We rarely have Desserts and Midnight Snacks; those are quite optional."

Bombur was still mouthing 'Second Breakfast' in awe as he set the table. Perhaps he ought to find a hobbit lass to marry if it meant he'd be fed as well as the Shirefolk!

Balin and Bilbo were carrying the platters of food into the dining area, still discussing the ways of hobbits and the like. They were soon joined by Dori, Ori and Bofur who awoke from the smell of such good food. Nori followed soon after with a gleeful smile on his face. Not wanting to know what he did now, Dori simply grumbled a 'good morning' to his younger brother. Moments later, an equally gleeful Oin, Gloin, and Svala trailed in after him. The four dwarrows looked like small children who had done something awfully naughty. To make matters worse, Bifur laughing something fierce as he walked in to join them, his hands holding his sides.

Bilbo and the others looked at each other, none of them feeling up to the task to ask just what was so funny. They didn't have to wait long as Fili and Kili stomped in, angry and in distress. They looked to be attached to each other.

...by the hair.

Balin was the first to react, rolling his eyes as the others began to laugh hysterically. How pitiful that the heirs to Erebor had their hair braided together.

"It's not funny!"

"Ow! Kili stop pulling!"

"I can't help it! It hurts!"

Bilbo finally took pity on the poor boys and sat them down on the floor. Grabbing a chair, he placed it behind them and sat down. "Settle down, you two. I need you to hold still well I untangle the two of you."

"Aww, Master Baggins! You ruined the fun!" Nori groaned petulantly as he sulked down into his chair.

"Serves you lot right for laughing," Bilbo replied as gently began to unwind the braids that bound the two boys together.

Balin sighed, "I'd best go wake Dwalin and Thorin. We have to get the ponies ready."

Svala rose from her seat and affectionately ruffled Bilbo's hair. "I'll get Thorin. You wake up your brother. Oin, Gloin, round up the ponies."

...

Thorin woke alone in the most comfortable bed he'd ever felt. It cushioned every inch of his body and he found himself hesitant to leave it just yet. He could hear footsteps on his kin wandering about outside the room. They were probably eating or prepping for their journey. He supposed getting up now would be best; it wouldn't seem very kingly to get up last.

Leaving the bed, he found his armor and coat on a nearby chair-he vaguely remembered the hobbit mentioning that's where he put their things-and began to put them on. Searching for comb to tame his unruly bedhead, he found it on a small table along with some other knick knacks. At first glance, they appeared to be toys carved from wood. The hobbit had mentioned something about having many little cousins that would visit, but these toys seemed older as if they were made years ago.

Curious, he picked up one of them and saw it to be a detailed carving of Svala in full armor. The second carving appeared to be a hobbit lass riding a bear, spear in hand. These toys seemed too violent for the tender sensibilities of hobbit children.

"Bilbo carved those for me when he was a child."

Svala's voice startled Thorin enough to nearly drop the toy in his hand. She stood against the door jam, arms crossed, her gaze thoughtful yet hard.

"He has some skill, then. Toy carving will not be enough to help him survive this quest."

"You'd be surprised. Belladonna Took didn't raise her son to be a weakling, Thorin Oakenshield. I only made sure of it." She uncrossed her arms from the doorway and headed back to the dining area. "He knows our history, you know," she called over her shoulder. "He's not some arrogant, sheltered halfling that you think he is."

"We'll see," Thorin mumbled as his eyes passed over a pair of wooden swords leaning against a corner of the room. They were weathered and worn down, most likely from constant use. They were the kind of swords used when training children. Perhaps there were some truth to Svala's words.


	6. Getting to know you

"Ah-choo!" Bilbo sneezed into his borrowed handkerchief for the umpteenth time since they passed the Shire's borders. He apologized for his allergies; it never got near as bad when he was near one pony, but sixteen? Oh, his poor nose!

They rode in groups of two; Thorin and Gandalf were up front, followed by the sons of Fundin, then Fili and Kili. Bifur and Svala came next with Bofur and Bilbo right behind them; Dori was as usual fussing over Ori-it didn't matter if they were separated by ponies, Dori would fuss regardless-while Nori chatted with Oin. Gloin and Bombur took up the rear; Bombur was all to happy to let Gloin boast about his little Gimli since it kept the group morale lively. Amongst the sixteen of the group, the most chatty were of course, Fili, Kili, Svala, Nori, Bilbo and Bofur.

Gloin didn't count because Gloin only talked about Gimli.

They talked about all sorts of things; from Fili's 'superior' swordsmanship to Svala's craftiness nearly being on par with Nori's. Kili only laughed at his brother while Bofur whittled away at a block of wood to pass the time, but even he realized that they would be on a very long trip together. They better learn to get along now rather than later.

"So Bilbo," they dropped formalities after leaving the hobbit's home, "tell us more about your kin. You mentioned that your people fought in battle before?"

Fili and Kili instantly hushed and edged their ponies closer so they could listen in on the conversation. If anyone asked Thorin sometime later, he would deny that their pace had slowed just a tad for some storytelling.

"Well, only one hobbit fought in just one battle. He's the famousest of hobbits on me Mam's side of the family. The Tooks are a rambunctious bunch, and Great-Great-Great Uncle Bullroarer Took was the wildest of them all. Why, did you know he grew so big, he could actually ride a horse?"

"A horse? He was too big for a pony?" Ori's voice piped in from behind them.

"Aye! And the story goes that he rode a horse into the Battle of Greenfields and hit the Goblin King so hard with his club that it knocked his head off and sent it hundreds of yards away into a rabbit hole! Thus the battle was won and the game of golf invented at the same time." Bilbo ended with a smile, recalling Gandalf's words from the night before.

Fili and Kili were impressed, a little doubtful at the golf bit, but impressed nonetheless.

"So laddie, tha must mean from yer Mam's side of tha family, yer descended from a line o' warriors?" Gloin, who had paused long enough to stop bragging about how his son already had a semi-majestic beard, inquired of Bilbo.

Bilbo blushed, the tips of his ears going red from embarrassment. While that was sort of true, the 'line of warriors' had very few hobbits that took up the call. His mother was the last before he was born.

"Aye, I suppose so. My Mam was known as The Belladonna Took, The Adventuress. She's still the only hobbit to travel the farthest out of all of us. I've only ever made it a ways passed Bree, but she made it up to the Greenwood."

"So she made it up to the tree-shagger's borders, eh? Brave lass!" Nori complimented. "I heard rumors that folks of our size were not welcomed there after the fall of Erebor."

At that, Svala threw her head back and laughed. Memories of meeting up with Belladonna after several adventures flooded her mind. One of which was a story about meeting a skin-changer that encouraged Belladonna to hunt for orcs and goblins.

"Oh, aye, the woodland elves hold no love for folks of our size. Last Belladonna said was that they spared her because they thought her a child!"

"To be fair, Svala, you almost didn't spare Ma's life because she was the same height as an orc," Bilbo deadpanned.

"Bah! Orcs, hobbits, children...they're near enough the same height." Svala nudged her pony to move farther ahead, Bilbo's laughter trailing behind her.

...

"Fili?"

"What, Kili?"

"I'm bored."

"And what would you have me do about it brother? We're all but glued to our mounts and can't do much but talk and drink water."

"Nevermind. I'll go ask Mister Boggins instead."

The order of their line of ponies slowly rotated as they proceeded along the Great East Road. Surprisingly enough, Bilbo did have an idea to attempt to ease Kili's boredom.

"We're going to play a game, see? It's very easy to play and we don't have to leave our ponies at all. It's a game we hobbits tend to play when we visit relatives that live farther than most. It's call 'I Spy.' I'll say 'I spy something...' and then you have to guess what it is I'm seeing." Bilbo explained as simply as he could. A part of him felt that he was going to regret introducing this game to Kili and the others, but they really didn't have much to do.

"Okay, Mister Boggins. I think I understand. Can we give it a try?"

"I'll start simple, alright? I spy something...green."

Kili started looking around him, desperately trying to spot something green in color. It shouldn't be too complicated since Mister Boggins told him they would start simple.

"Grass?"

"Very good, Kili! Now you try."

"I spy something...um...uh...bald!"

"It's Dwalin!" Svala yelled from ahead of them before bursting into a fit of giggles.

"That's not fair, Svala! You didn't say you were playing!" Bilbo nearly whined at being denied the chance to answer for his turn.

"Well, I'm playing now! And that goes for the rest of you! If you're within hearing distance, you're playing!"

...

It degraded horribly from there.

Ori spied something soft to which Gloin yelled "My brother's beard!"

Gloin spied something unnatural, so Bifur signed _'Nori's hair.'_

Bifur spied something funny and Nori said, "Bofur's hat."

"I spy something large."

"Gandalf!" and "Bombur!" was yelled out at the same time. There was an odd silence before Gandalf decided to join in.

"I spy something blue and grumpy."

"Thorin!" Chorused Fili and Kili before they quieted when they felt, rather than saw, their uncle's glare upon them.

"I spy something pointless," came the gruff voice of one very annoyed soon-to-be King Under the Mountain.

No one said a word until Svala coughed something that suspiciously sounded like "Dwalin."

Dwalin's spine stiffened in indignation, but he refused to say a word. That is until Balin joined the game.

"I spy something ugly."

"SVALA!" Dwalin happily roared before he realized a few other names were called out as well. Such as "Kili," yelled by his brother, and "Nori," yelled by his older brother Dori.

Svala, not to be outdone, mentally weighed the weight of an apple core in her hand. She had just had the apple itself as a snack and she just couldn't let its remains go to waste.

"I spy something that's about to be in pain."

...

When the company settled in a safe area to rest, no one dared question the odd shaped bruise that stood out on the back of Dwalin's head.


	7. Songs of memories

They were not going to eat much while the rested for the night. Thankfully, the dried meats that Bilbo had brought helped tide them over as they settled around the small fire. There was little talk as one by one, they fell asleep. Although how anyone could sleep through Oin and Gloin's snoring had to be deep into sleep already. The second Gloin would stop snoring, Oin would pick up where his brother left off. It was a vicious circle of aggravating noise, so it wasn't surprising to see many of the others still wide awake.

Fili and Kili sat beside each other; Fili was sharpening his sword while Kili attempted to make shadow puppets using the light from the fire. Balin, Dwalin, Nori, Bofur and Gandalf sat in a half circle, contently smoking their pipes until they were ready to rest. Svala sat on a log, Bilbo between her legs while she undid his braids and combed them with gentle hands. Thorin sat beside her, curious at how Bilbo seemed accustomed to the routine of getting his hair braided. He wondered if Bilbo knew the importance behind getting his hair braided, or if he at least knew what it meant.

"Hm, we should put in your memory bead now. I made one for your mother after her adventure with me," she told the hobbit while she rummaged through her pouch tied at her waist. "You have her hair you know. Hers was a nightmare to tame into a braid."

Bilbo twisted his head to the side to look back at her. "I'd expect it would be. She had the longest hair in all the Shire, but no one could tell because of the way she'd braid it. Will you be using her bead? The blue one?"

"Even if we hadn't buried it with her, I still wouldn't use it. She and I carved that one together. I carved this one for you back when you were naught but a hobbit babe." She placed the sapphire bead in his hand whilst she split his unruly hair into separate strands.

"This wouldn't happen to be from the time you convinced Mother that Father could watch me while the two of you could go on another adventure, would it?"

Svala snorted, "You think I got a sapphire from the Shire? Of course, we had to go looking for one. I wasn't going to settle for brittle fakes in Bree."

Thorin's curiosity had reached its limit and he asked Bilbo if he could see the bead. Turning it between his thumb and forefinger, Thorin went over it with a practiced eye and was suitably impressed. "This did not come from the Blue Mountains or Ered Luin."

Once the bead was back in his hand, Bilbo stared down at it in wonder. "And I doubt they got it from Erebor since Balin said no one has gone back since Smaug."

Svala placed the comb between her teeth and began to hum in earnest while she weaved a familial braid for Bilbo. It was similar to the one she used to braid Belladonna's nigh untamed hair.

Thorin and Bilbo shared a look; it was obvious she was hiding something from the both of them. When Bilbo gave the bead to his guardian, he continued to wonder aloud.

"You know, my father mentioned you took her to just beyond the borders to Lothlorien. If you found this sapphire in a mine, the nearest mine would have been..."

"Moria," Thorin breathed. Clearing his throat, he gave her a hard stare. "What madness drove you there for a bead? You could have just gone to Ered Luin since it's closer to the Shire."

Svala looked at Thorin like he was stupid. "My sister-sworn had just had her firstborn. Why wouldn't I go to such lengths to get the most beautiful gift for him?"

Bilbo flushed red with embarrassment. "You still didn't have to," he mumbled, the tips of ears bright red.

Thorin sat back on the log and pondered this news. It wasn't often that a dwarf would swear kinship to another species, let alone one of the hobbit variety. And for a hobbit to willingly join a dwarf on a journey to Moria just for her first child? He recalled Bilbo mentioning something about those with Took blood were needlessly reckless, but actually know of it was almost awe-inspiring.

Almost.

Svala suddenly rose from her seat and would have sent Bilbo tumbling had Thorin not caught him in time. She had gone completely still as if listening for some kind of danger they could not see.

"Svala, what-"

"I'm going to take a look around. Something doesn't feel right, it's as if we're being watched but I can't figure out from where." She started for the tree line before asking Kili if she could borrow his bow and a few arrows. Once the weapon was in her hands, she strung the bow over her shoulder and her footsteps quickly fell silent.

Worried now, Bilbo thanked Thorin for catching him then looked to him for reassurance.

Thorin, who was only used to such a look by his nephews, placed his hand on the halfling's shoulder as a measure of comfort. "None of us have told anyone of our quest; we should not be followed and are safe here."

...

When Svala returned, she noticed the obvious tension amongst the company. They were all wide awake besides the late hour and it was Bifur who clued her in to what happened while she was gone. Fili and Kili had teased Bilbo about orcs, but Thorin had cut in to berate them for their joking manner. Then Balin had launched into the story of the Battle of Azanulbizar and air grew oppressive with memories followed by awe. She noted the way Dwalin was looking anywhere but in her general direction, but she knew his reasons for why. She knew he was there at the Battle where her father had fallen. She didn't blame him if he thought she was still bitter about it.

Rolling her shoulders, she gave back Kili's bow and unused arrows and settled on her bedroll. She patted the bedroll beside her where Bilbo, Ori, and Kili settled near her. She rather liked Ori; he reminded her of the few friends she had back when she had lived in the Blue Mountains. He was just so kind and timid, but he had a stout heart and the love of his brothers to keep him strong.

"Svala? Did you find what you were looking for?"

"No, I did not, but I expect it is still out there all the same. Now come," she she patted the ground once again, "I'll sing you the song your mother and I sang when we'd go on our adventures."

"The Lady of the Golden Ale?"

"What? No, not that one. That song is strictly reserved for that of when the Old Took and I drink together. I mean the one about going home. Your mother sang it to you when you were a babe."

"I would like to hear it, Miss Svala." Ori had his journal out and a quill ready, "I would love to have a song by one of Bilbo's kin included in the tale of our journey."

"Belladonna would have been thrilled to hear that, Ori. She sang it much better than I can, but I'll do my best." Sitting up, she was pleasantly surprised to have Bilbo leaning against her side while Fili and Kili settled their heads on her lap.

_Land in shadow_  
_Land forsaken_  
_Stone and fable_  
_Past is hidden_  
_Darkness clouds the road's safe haven_  
_We will go home_  
_We will go home_  
_We will go home across the mountains_

The following morning had everyone back on their mounts as their journey continued onwards along the Great East Road. Svala had retrieved a small metal clasp from her pouch and carved into the metal at a steady pace. She was guiding the pony with her legs instead of the rains-her pony was used to the routine by now and obediently followed after the other ponies leading the way. She wanted to give the clasp to Ori, to show that he would be an honorary member of her family. She didn't have the time to make two more clasps to include the young scribe's brothers, but made a mental note to do it when time would permit her to.

Fili was humming the song that Svala had taught them. Dwalin had joined in the humming while Ori absently started to sing.

_Land of home_  
_Land of family_  
_Land where all our hope is found_

Bofur had taken up the chorus when Ori's voice faded. The song itself rose morale in the company and Bofur was pleased when Bilbo and Bombur joined in as well.

_We will go home_  
_We will go home_  
_We will go home across the mountains _

Thorin wasn't sure if he approved of the song or not. It reminded him of the fact that they were going to be crossing the Misty Mountains to go home to Erebor, yet at the same time, it reminded him of the temporary home they had carved for themselves back in the Blue Mountains. He was starting to notice that the rest of the company were starting to come together with this single song. Even when the rain came-it didn't stop for three days-everyone in their own way had begun to recite the song. Whether they were humming it, singing, or just mouthing the words, they were doing it together.

_Land of Bear and_  
_Land of Eagle._

Bilbo faintly recalled his mother's tales of traveling so far, she had met the largest Bear and Eagle she had ever seen. She told him they were larger than horses and that if given respect, they could be true friends.

_Land that gave us birth_  
_And blessing,_  
_Land that pulled us_  
_Ever homeward._

Svala had a vague memory of her family sitting together at a table. She sat on her father's lap while her brother leaned onto the table beside her mother. The memory itself was fuzzy around the edges, as if she were watching it from far away.

_We will go home_  
_We will go home_  
_We will go home across the mountains,_

Dori remembered the kinder days, when his brother Nori had yet to turn to thieving to support their family. When Nori had happily walked around with little Ori in his arms, showing off their youngest brother's baby-fine whiskers that adorned his chin.

_Hear our singing, hear our longing,_

More times than he could count, Dwalin's eyes strayed to the only female dwarf in the company. He had not seen her since her older brother and his close friend, Svoren, had been killed when a mine collapsed back in the Blue Mountains. The body was buried under so much rock and debris, that they had held the funeral at the entrance of the mine. When he had gone to check on her in the home Svoren built for her, she was gone.

Balin had caught his brother staring, and so had Thorin. Neither he, nor the King Under the Mountain knew the full history there. Yet as they shared a look after catching Dwalin staring at Svala once again, they hoped that whatever happened it the past could still be resolved.

_We will go home across the mountains._


	8. A hobbit shows his worth

Svala had to admit it. So far, their journey wasn't half bad. They hadn't even run into bandits or wolves yet; she and Belladonna almost always ran into one or the other at the start of an adventure. This particular adventure seemed almost like a relief. She was happy to see that Bilbo got along quite well with the other dwarves. He got on especially well with their esteemed leader of this quest. He and Thorin would often ride beside each other, asking about the differences between their cultures. The other dwarves were more than curious over how the Shirefolk saw such little worth in gold and jewels except for usage as currency. They were fascinated by the fact that flowers were often a favored gift rather than gems. Svala knew for a fact it was rare for any hobbit to be in possession of any gem since they rarely left the Shire. And the ones that did leave the Shire preferred to return with objects carved from wood rather than from rock.

Today she was riding beside Gandalf, the two of them engaged in a smoke ring/figure battle as they leisurely smoked from their pipes. Svala had blown perfect smoke rings of varying sizes, to which Gandalf countered with galloping horses of smoke that pranced in and out of each ring. Her snort of indignation had smoke billowing out of her nostrils and filled up the space between them. Gandalf merely chuckled before charming the smoke to dissipate in a flock of smoke birds.

"Show off," Svala grunted before pocketing her pipe.

"It's what I do best, my dear. And speaking of best, you've certainly done a fine job in raising young Bilbo."

"I wouldn't call him 'young' Bilbo anymore, Gandalf. He's already into his fifties."

"Is he now? I wouldn't have guessed after hearing rumors of the prank war he initiated between the Shire and Bree not too long ago. Even the Twins from Rivendell attempted to join the festivities but weren't able to make it out of the valley!"

"Thank Mahal they never made it to the Shire."

"...we still would have won!" Came Bilbo's shout from further up the line, causing Gandalf's eyes to crinkle with laughter.

Thorin, who rode beside Bilbo, was quietly reassessing his initial impression of the hobbit. As the days of their quest wore on, he had heard bits and pieces of the hobbit's life. So far, he'd learned that while hobbits in general were quiet, peaceful creatures, this one in particular was very different. He often ventured from his home to protect his kin's borders and happily trained young hobbits interested in helping him defend the Shire. This was not the hobbit he assumed was too gentle for such a journey-he still felt that way, of course-but perhaps this was a hobbit that was well-suited for the company. He assumed it was because he was raised around dwarven culture, but he soon began to notice that the hobbit easily befriended the rest of the company. Thorin couldn't help but feel a little suspicious of the whole thing. Bilbo Baggins held no ties to loyalty to his kin and Thorin still found it difficult that hobbits did not covet gold or rare gems. From Thorin's experience, all races were susceptible to the call of beautiful things. And although Bilbo thoroughly explained why hobbits didn't need jewels, Thorin learned that different forms of greed did exist in Hobbiton.

"Let it go, laddie." Balin's calm voice startled Thorin out of his thoughts. "The hobbit has yet to prove his worth to you, yet there has been no quarrel since he joined us on our quest. He was also raised by a Swifthammer and has not offended a single member of the company."

Thorin didn't answer, but merely nodded his head in acknowledgement of Balin's words. His cousin did have a point, but he would reserve his suspicions for another time.

When they arrived at the abandoned farm, Thorin paid no notice to the worried glances shared between Gandalf and Svala. The two of them were scouting ahead and inspecting the damage done to the rundown buildings.

"A farmer and his family lived here."

"I remember, Gandalf. And if I remember correctly, their farm was fairly prosperous with little danger to them. I helped teach the farmer to defend the farm. What could have done this?"

"I don't know, my dear. I'll try to persuade Thorin to move our camp closer to the Hidden Valley."

"And if he insists we stay?"

"I'll scout ahead."

Svala didn't like his answer, but there was not much else that could be done. She nodded and joined the others in setting up camp. She tapped Nori and Bifur's shoulders and quietly passed on the message that their rest stop wasn't as safe as they thought. She would have passed the message on to Dwalin, but he still wasn't talking to her. Or looking at her. Or just acknowledging her presence.

Bilbo was currently unpacking the supplies off the ponies along with Fili and Kili. He was happy to help if it meant it showed his worth; he still felt as though the other dwarves still didn't approve of him.

Like Thorin.

He had grown up on stories about the King Under the Mountain. And to finally meet him had been a dream he dared not hope to happen until now. Although, he couldn't quite put down the feeling that the dwarf just didn't like him. And that hurt his hobbit pride because hobbits were generally well-liked among the different races. He could only sigh in distress as he gathered kindle for the fire and helped Bombur with the stew for dinner. He was so lost in wallowing in self-pity that he almost didn't hear the sharp whistling sound of some kind of projectile being launched at the back of his head. Nerves tingling, he turned just in time to catch the offending object-a small axe-before he noticed the sudden silence around the camp. The other dwarrows stared at him in shock as he inspected the axe before shifting his grip and hurled it right back in the direction from whence it came.

Svala's laughter was his reply from his action and he couldn't help the smirk that tugged the corners of his lips upward.

"You do know that could have hit Bombur!"

"Aye, but you caught it well enough. Come, we'll train a bit so you don't lose your touch."

"Lose my-I'll have you know that I am in the best condition at the moment!"

"For the moment, yes. But what about when I throw a knife while you're settling down to sleep?"

"You'd throw your hammer at my face, knowing you," he mumbled but nonetheless gathered both his short swords from his pack before he jogged over to join her in a small clearing with seeing distance of the camp fire.

Thorin had only just returned from checking on his nephews and the ponies when he caught the tail end of the conversation between Svala and Bilbo. In all honesty, he never believed the hobbit to be skillful in any kind of weaponry. But as he settled down on a log beside Dwalin, who was sharpening a knife, he again found himself reconsidering his earlier beliefs.

"We'll work on your offense first," Svala held up a hand to cut off whatever protest was about to spring from Bilbo's lips, "I know you're proficient, Bilbo, don't complain. But you shouldn't be overly confident in such things, especially when you know that over confidence has been the downfall of many a warrior."

"Fine," Bilbo spat out as he readied his stance. He eyed Svala's war hammer and fought the urge to grimace for striking any part of that hammer with his swords always made the vibrations of each strike sing up his arms and made him loosen his grip unwillingly.

"Begin."

Bilbo attacked with a ferociousness rarely seen from a hobbit. His eyes searched for any opening in Svala's defense while keeping an eye on her stance. Training was Svala was always a challenge because she fought dirty. She wasn't against stomping on a hobbit's foot or taking a hit if it meant she'd slip past his guard. And the size of the hammer she wielded was the most deceptive aspect of her fighting style. Indeed it was far too heavy for a hobbit like himself to carry, so one would assume it would slow her down considerably.

"Stop letting your mind wander!" She swung the hammer in a wide arc over her head. Bilbo swiftly dodged but groaned as she used the hammer to propel herself forward, a blade sliding into her hand as she lunged at him. "You know better!"

"I know!" He barked as he parried the knife thrust to his throat and used his other sword to force her some steps back. He didn't like the look she had in her eyes, and her smile was nearly feral as her lip curled into a snarl.

"Do you now? We'll see how well your defense holds up."

This time, he did groan aloud and adjusted his stance into a defensive position. The only thing that hurt his arms more than striking against her hammer was being _struck_ by her hammer. For as ferocious as he was with his earlier attacks, Svala's ferociousness was only rivaled by that of a wounded bear. She fought as though she had nothing left to lose and didn't care what it took to come out victorious. In Bilbo's opinion, that was downright frightening to witness let alone be on the receiving end of it.

Balin could fully understand the hobbit's sentiment on the matter. He sat beside his brother and Thorin, eyes calculating every move between Svala and Bilbo and felt a measure of respect for the hobbit. He could see the fear and wariness in Bilbo's eyes as he dodged and countered Svala's attacks, yet he did not run nor take a step back. It wasn't until a mighty swing of Svala's hammer brought Bilbo to his knees that Balin set down his empty bowl and raised his hands to applaud the hobbit.

"Well done, laddie! You still could use some more work on your defense, but you did well. Come, get a bowl to eat from Bofur here and sit down for some rest." He clapped the hobbit on the back and was returned with a grateful smile from said hobbit. As he watched Bilbo set down his swords and stretch his most likely sore muscles, Balin gave Thorin The Look. The Look that loosely translated to "stop underestimating the hobbit".

"Oh, alright," Thorin grunted in acceptance before joining the others to get something to eat.

Balin then turned to his brother and before he could even give him The Other Look, Dwalin was already standing with his hands raised in front of him in the universal sign of "you win". Balin watched with a swell of pride as his brother walked over to Svala to talk with her. He turned his back on them to help lay out the bedrolls and chuckled as he heard the resounding smack of what he knows is his brother getting slapped. He briefly wonders just what his brother said when Fili and Kili come running straight into camp, their eyes wild with fright.

"It's Bilbo! There are trolls and they took the ponies! Bilbo went after them to get the ponies back!" The words poured out of Fili's mouth in quick succession as he looked to his Uncle for what to do next.

Thorin wanted to hit his head on something. _The night was going so well until this_, he thought to himself before giving his nephews his best glare of disapproval.

"You're telling me that you sent our hobbit after trolls?"

"Three of them!" Fili fidgeted under his uncle's cold stare. "We have to save him, Thorin!"

Before Thorin could even reply, Kili removed his sword from its scabbard and charged right back into the forest, bellowing a "We're coming Bilbo!"

Thorin could already feel that this wouldn't end well and chased after his unruly nephew, the company right behind him as they charged straight through the darkness of the forest. They slowed their pace at the edge of the tree line just as Kili demanded the Troll drop Bilbo. The second the hobbit was relatively safe, Thorin and the others charged straight into battle.

Bilbo wasn't sure what to do with himself since he left his swords with his pack back at camp. He ducked and dodged under the trolls' feet and arms. He might as well continue with what he was determined to do earlier: rescuing the ponies. He had a knife in his coat's inner pocket and used that to cut the rope preventing the ponies from escaping. He had only just cut through it when a large hand closed over him and two trolls had him by both arms.

"Lay down your arms or we'll rip his off!"

Bilbo shook his head frantically as the others began to throw down their weapons. Except for Svala, of course, she had personally trained Bilbo to think on his feet even when he wasn't on the ground. With a mighty cry, she threw her hammer at the troll to Bilbo's left and hit it right on its hooter. Howling in pain, it released Bilbo to hold its nose. It gave Bilbo just enough time to swing round and plunge the knife hidden in his sleeve right into the eye of the troll that still held him. The troll roared its agony and shook Bilbo something violent before Dwalin managed to leap up and hit the troll's arm with his own hammer, effectively releasing Bilbo. Fortunately, he managed to land on both Bombur and Bifur who broke his fall and righted him instantly to continue the battle.

"We can't fight for much longer!" Dori yelled as he and Nori fought back to back.

"We just have to fight 'til dawn!" Svala yelled before Ori tackled her to prevent her from being squashed by troll.

"Why dawn?" Fili called out over the various roars and yells of the skirmish going on.

"Because the trolls will turn into stone!" Bellowed both Bilbo and Svala as they fought to keep from losing their heads.

"Did they say bone?" Questioned Oin as he was lifted into the air by a troll and was about to get his head bitten off if it weren't for Bombur and Gloin jumping to pull him back down. Kili and Bifur cut from behind the trolls knees so it fell and released the half deaf dwarf.

"Stone!" Dwalin roared as he and Bofur pushed one of the trolls back towards the fire.

"When?!" Thorin was getting impatient; they all were. The trolls were much stronger than a company of dwarves and he could see how the others were growing tired with the effort to survive.

"The dawn will take you all!" Gandalf's voice echoed around them as his staff struck the large stone and it split right enough to let daylight through. The others sagged to the ground in relief.

"Finally," mumbled a belligerent Bilbo who gave the wizard a dirty look. _Took your sweet time, didn't you old man?_ Bilbo kept his thoughts to himself as he went about helping the others to their feet.


End file.
